


A Tale of Kings

by FuwaFuwaMedb



Category: Fate/EXTRA, Fate/Grand Order
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 04:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17379341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuwaFuwaMedb/pseuds/FuwaFuwaMedb
Summary: Nothing beats a bath, a king's tale of longing and victory, and a good goblet of wine.





	A Tale of Kings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [valeria1314151611](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valeria1314151611/gifts).



> I don't tend to gift works, but the idea came from a comment on one of my stories and it was just too tempting. I may have gone on a tangent, but hopefully they enjoy it.  
> Enjoy, everyone.

They settled into the baths peacefully, watching the child Gilgamesh and Cu Chulainn Caster carry out the unconscious Caster Gilgamesh. Their eyes trailed after the trio, Archer’s smile hidden away behind the rim of his wine glass.  
  
Ozymandias looked over nearby, where Moses and Enkidu were currently trying to detangle from one another as they climbed out of the baths. Enkidu was merely laughing as the young ruler of a man apologized for getting tangled in the green hair to begin with.  
  
“I shouldn’t have told you to let your hair down,” Moses told him again. “It was wrong. You were just trying to make sure to enjoy the baths with everyone else.”  
  
“It was amusing,” Enkidu replied easily, leading the man out with his hair as a leash of sorts. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you treated me like a girl.”  
  
“I-I-I swear I know you’re a- um… I mean-“ The man fumbled, earning more amusement from the clay being as they left the room.  
  
Arthur looked over at Ozymandias and Gilgamesh, letting out a rather loud sigh that earned the two’s attention.  
  
“Something wrong, king of knights?” Ozymandias asked.  
  
“It’s nothing.” Arthur shook his head, motioning to the others leaving. “I just noticed that you both have interesting lives.”  
  
“Interesting,” Gilgamesh had to laugh at the mere idea that his other selves were interesting. They were anything but interesting. Pestilences, plagues upon his life, gnats that fed off his good fortune with having Hakuno and Enkidu? That sounded more appropriate.  
  
What’s more, Caster was one nap away from killing himself. If only his younger self would do him the favor.  
  
“My life is truly filled with blessings befitting a god,” the brunet told the knight king simply. “Truly, I have the greatest brother in arms and the loveliest woman to compliment myself. What’s more, we have the greatest story. It is one filled with courtly elements that would make any fair maiden swoon.”  
  
Gilgamesh rolled his eyes. “Your dreams are truly second to none, king of kings.”  
  
“Oh? You think yours is better?”  
  
“I hold Hakuno, a master like none other, in my arms with each night and I have Enkidu, the clay being created by the gods to keep me tempered, although,” Gilgamesh smirked as he took a sip of his drink before speaking again, “I am a king wiser than others. Enkidu has learned far more from me than I him. However, I must say that my story of meeting Hakuno is far greater than anything you could have experienced.”  
  
The two men stared at one another, the humor draining as they took in the seriousness of the other’s expression.  
  
“King of heroes, surely you don’t believe your love for Hakuno can hold a candle to the pure and innocent love that can only be expressed by my sweet Nefertari.”  
  
“You have not experienced the sense of,” Gilgamesh had to find words, “longing and satisfaction that comes with my Hakuno and Enkidu. They do not simply lay down like simple mongrels and cater to whims and fancy.”  
  
They were going to kill one another at this rate. The king of knights looked between his two odd acquaintances before shaking his head.  
  
“Gentlemen,” he declared, “can we not simply explain how we came to find our women then? Surely whomever has the better story will be obvious.”  
  
Gilgamesh laughed, “Do you think it fair to harm the perfect mental image that Ramses has painted with his sweet little wife and book hiding friend?”  
  
“I think my story far beats your sweets hunting master and vine haired friend,” Ramses replied. “I demand we both tell our stories and then Arthur will decide whomever has the better story. Without a doubt, he will understand the pure and unbridled relationship such as my love for Nefertari far exceeds some tale of summoning and fighting.”  
  
A handful of Gates of Babylon appeared around the baths, pouring three glasses of wine before the golden king motioned the brunet on.  
  
“Go on then,” he bid the man. “Begin your story, Ramses.”  
  
“It was a tale unlike many other,” the man began. “I held many wives during my life, but none held a candle to the woman incarnate of Hathor.”  
  
She had turned in the marketplace, adorned in the flowers of the Nile.  
  
Her skin had been as flawless as the desert dunes. Her hair hanging like the shade they all coveted zealously. With each step she took, she commanded attention. Yet her face hid away behind that beautiful hair of hers. Her face heated under the great Egyptian sun despite its being hidden away.  
  
All he could see though, was the goddess Hathor.  
  
Truly, there could be no mistaking such beauty amongst the sands around them. Nothing and no one in this world had held a candle to such unparalleled majesty.  
  
Walking alongside his brother, Ramses had felt himself need to pause. His body had commanded it.  
  
Astounding. Simply astounding.  
  
He wanted to steal the little beauty from where she stood alongside her family. He wanted to sweep her from her feet and carry her off to his home, to introduce her to his family and watch his father fawn over such glory that would be his son’s wife.  
  
“Ramses,” Moses had looked back at him, holding a handful of manuscripts from one of the merchants. His brother raised a brow at him, glancing around. “Is something the matter?”  
  
Oh yes, he would take that woman as his wife. Without a doubt, he would claim her and covet her away for himself.  
  
“Brother, do you not see her?” Ozymandias turned to his brother, grinning. “Over by the flowers.”  
  
“Hmm?” Moses glanced in the direction of the divine goddess, eyes passing over her. As though she were nothing! “You mean the little thing there?”  
  
“Brother mine,” Ozymandias ran a hand over his brother’s shoulders, shaking his head at the foolish reader. “There is no need for such a reaction as that. You act as though your heart is made of stone. And to a goddess such as Hathor! Do you not feel shame?”  
  
“Ah- You shouldn’t just compare others to the gods and goddesses,” Moses murmured. “They will take offense.”  
  
“I am the reincarnation of one of them. They will understand when I claim whom they are when I see them. She,” Ozymandias motioned at the woman, “is Hathor, for sure. Do you not see it in the way her cheeks flush beneath her hands. Do you not notice the graceful way her hands move over the petals of the flowers she is beholding?”  
  
“You’re a smitten idiot,” Moses replied, turning away. “If you are so enthralled with her, then I am happy for you. Go speak to her while I do my shopping.”  
  
Therein lay the problem. He had promised their father that he would watch over Moses and his spending habits. The man had no idea how to properly hold himself back when it came to his manuscripts and documents. Rather than simply being pleased with being a pharaoh’s son, the man was buried beneath his texts. He questioned and argued over every little thing.  
  
Such as laborers. Such a fool.  
  
“Moses,” Ramses leaned against the man’s shoulder, growling at him. “You need to come with me.”  
  
“To visit with a young woman? I think not.” Moses narrowed his gaze, waving the scroll at him. “Do you know how long I have waited for our father to turn away so I could peruse the market without his guards escorting me? I’m not missing out on my opportunity so you can simply scare some market girl.”  
  
“I’m going to woo her. You should consider it a favor for a brother.”  
  
Moses glanced over towards the young woman, noting something as he nodded to himself.  
  
“What?” He looked over, watching the woman blush immediately, ducking behind a rather large plant near her when their eyes met. His smile grew.  
  
“Oh brother, no.” Moses looked between them and his texts, biting his lip. “I spent months waiting for today.”  
  
“Just a few minutes with the goddess,” Ramses offered.  
  
“Damn it, Ramses.” Moses looked down at the books again. “…I really, truly do not want to do this. She could be from a lesser family and our father could say no.”  
  
“I will make him agree to her. Look at the woman,” he motioned at her again when she turned away, speaking to who could only be her father. “She is of fine quality. She would give such wonderful children.”  
  
“I swear, father should be so proud of you.” Moses sighed, looking over only to shake his head. “It would appear that we’re too late.”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
He looked back towards the woman, watching her hold her father’s hand as they moved away from the markets, turning around one of the buildings. His stomach sank, face paling.  
  
“Oh don’t do that look.”  
  
“She was perfect, Moses!”  
  
“As was the woman last week and the servant that commented on your godhood,” Moses argued, eyes returning to his manuscripts.  
  
But she had been perfect.  
  
The longer he stood with Moses, waiting for him to finish, the more his mind wandered. The woman had been everything he could have asked for. She had been so fragile looking, yet so brave to finally look him in the eyes. Never before had any of the women he had met been able to meet his gaze. They would come over to apologize or they would come to stare at him and proposition themselves.  
  
He had no use for women without a sense of propriety or meekness. He wanted a woman who could captivate him like the woman in the market had.  
  
“Ramses?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
Moses looked over at him, holding his purchases in hand and motioning to the other stack. He had purchased too much again. Their father would be livid if he found out.  
  
Still, he liked that about Moses. The man had spunk. He didn’t simply do as their father asked. He thought for himself and he made decisions based on what his heart told him. If he had done the same as his brother, he would probably be much happier. Instead he always listened to his father’s wishes. He babysat his brother when the man would wander to the market. He oversaw the world around them as his father’s successor to be.  
  
Then, when it came to visiting kingdoms, he held himself to a higher standard, as gods were demanded to do.  
  
The little goddess was on his mind the entire way back to the palace, the books easily being hidden away in Moses’ chambers before he distractedly excused himself. He had wandered back to his chambers, laying himself out amongst the furs and staring at his ceiling.  
  
Such a beautiful woman.  
  
That face of hers haunted him, taunting him with the fact that he couldn’t really remember noticing what color her eyes had been. What did her voice sound like? Would it be sweet? Meek or bold in its tone?  
  
He couldn’t imagine her being anything overly bold. Rather, she seemed like the other half of himself, quiet where he was loud, loud where he was quiet.  
  
Rather than attending dinner, he remained in his chambers, lacking in hunger. The next day, when it had come time for him to see to the needs of the people, he had found himself lacking in desire to wander out. He didn’t want to risk seeing the little goddess and being unable yet again to meet with her.  
  
A knock came at the door that evening, Moses’ head poking into the room.  
  
“Brother?”  
  
The man only called him brother when he was bothered. Ozymandias sighed, shaking his head. “Come in, brother.”  
  
“You missed your council time,” Moses told him, closing the door behind himself.  
  
“My mind is occupied.”  
  
“Your mind is always occupied. It’s something I quite envy.” The man moved across the room, climbing onto the bed as well and laying back to stare at the ceiling as well. “…I assume this is about the flower girl in the market?”  
  
“She was Hathor.”  
  
“Ah yes, Hathor the goddess of love, beauty, music, and motherhood.” Moses looked over at him. “She affected you that deeply?”  
  
“She did. I want to woo her.”  
  
“Hmm.” He simply nodded at that, brows furrowing as he simply thought to himself.  
  
As always, the pensive man seemed to have something on the mind. No doubt remembering the woman’s beauty. Even someone as caught up in his books as his brother would be in love the sight of such a beautiful woman. It was impossible not to be taken with her.  
  
“I think I can resolve your problem.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Well, you are the reincarnation of the gods, are you not?”  
  
“I am.”  
  
“And she is a goddess, is she not?”  
  
“She is.”  
  
Moses grinned, “Then according to the prophecies that I have been reading, you are both destined to one another. Fate will bring you to one another because no other would be suitable to a god or goddess.”  
  
That made sense.  
  
“My spirit cannot take being unable to speak to her.”  
  
“Well, I suppose, if you will keep father off of our backs while I purchase a few more books, I could at least let you know that the woman is from one of the noble families nearby. I visited them with mother the other week.”  
  
“You did what?”  
  
“Nefer… Nefi… Nefertari. That’s it. Her name was Nefertari.” Moses grinned, as though he had not known the woman’s name when he had seen her before. “I may have talked to her for a while when I met her. She enjoys flowers and singing.”  
  
“You knew her?!”  
  
“I mean, I can’t say I would call her Hathor. I don’t think she sings that great.”  
  
“MOSES!”  
  
Before he could smack the man, he was up and running, laughing a little. “Don’t worry. I only told her of my troublesome brother a little bit.”  
  
“MOSES NO!”  
  
He had locked his brother in the defecation room for a while for his insolence, demanding all details.  
  
Her name was Nefertari. She was a noble’s child, saved for someone of value who had not been decided on. She was shy, far too shy to be alone with anyone. She had needed her family around when he had spoken to her, nervously talking to him while she stroked one of the sphynxes he had brought with him.  
  
Sweet Nefertari.  
  
“You must promise to encourage her to visit the palace.”  
  
And he had promised, in exchange for help in going to where the markets were. In exchange for being allowed to roam without being watched.  
  
What man would say no to such a deal?  
  
And there she had come, walking into the palace and into his heart. Her gentle eyes had met his, the same color as the lilies in her hair. He had claimed her hands in his, kissing them as he had captured the attention of those gentle eyes.  
  
Her voice, when it had made its presence known, had resonated with his very soul.  
  
They were as one. Two halves of the same soul.  
  
Once she had entered the palace, he had stolen promises from her for her return. Day after day, meeting with him after his meetings with the people. Eating with him during the high rise of the sun; she claimed his soul with every single visit.  
  
“So naturally,” Ozymandias told the two men in the bath. “I claimed her for my own, proclaiming her my wife before the people. She gave me solace when I lost Moses, comforting me when we lost our son. She even risked death once more to provide me with another.”  
  
Gilgamesh yawned.  
  
“Oh? You yawn at my sweet-“  
  
“You barely said anything of interest,” Gilgamesh replied. “You sat there half the time dazed and caught up in your own memories.” The man waved his hand at the two as he looked in Arthur’s direction. “It is hard to imagine being impressed with a story that merely said that you had children with her and found a few other wives, but you found interest just a bit more in Nefertari.”  
  
“She was my only love. The rest of my wives were figureheads. You had similar events occur with your time, Gilgamesh.”  
  
“I did have many wives,” Gilgamesh admitted. He moved to set his glass aside, slicking back his hair before he looked at them both with those red eyes of his. His smile grew as he spoke up. “However, allow me to enlighten you both on a tale worthy of our time.”  
  
Arthur waved him on as Ozymandias leaned back and basked in his own memories.  
  
“It was fated, between myself and the plain woman,” Gilgamesh began. “I saw her first while seated on my throne.” His voice continued as the mental image came to mind. She had been there.  
  
Like a flickering flame amongst the jewels of his palace. Like an elusive treasure, stolen away by all the thieves of the world; he had seen her amongst the faces of the banquet dancers. Her garments had intrigued him in their simplistic and unusual manner. Her hair had fanned out behind her, swirling whenever she moved around the other dancers.  
  
But it had been those eyes.  
  
Oh those eyes, defiant and remarkable in their appearance whenever he had been close enough to see them. Dark, like the depths of the underworld. Challenging, like the Cedar Forests had been when he had gone with Enkidu to defeat the great Humbaba.  
  
Everything about her had called to him. Everything in him had screamed for her. Such great desire had taken over him.  
  
He had to touch. He had to feel.  
  
Nothing in him gave off a warning as it had with Ishtar. Nothing in him had felt indifferent as he had when he had seen Ereshkigal or any of the other goddesses.  
  
No, with the women luring him amongst his people’s temple maidens, all he could feel was the great supremacy of being a god. He was a god in that moment, seeking out what was his. Truly and fully his.  
  
Around and around each of the dancers they had gone. The woman impossible to catch. She was too fleeting, flickering in and out of view. With each miss, his desire only grew. Grew and grew, it did, until he felt like losing her would be losing himself and his world.  
  
He opened his mouth to call forth to her, but she raised a hand to her lips.  
  
They moved into the city, down from the ziggurat towards the people. He found her slipping around her people, dancing amongst the merriment of his citizens.  
  
Her hair gleamed under the moonlight. Her skin, so terribly pale amongst the people of his city, beckoned him with its perfection.  
  
She was so plain, he tried to reason with his heart.  
  
Terribly plain and small. She almost would be fragile if it weren’t for the looks she sent his way. She would almost seem sickly, if it weren’t for the graceful way her body seemed to move around the people passing by them both.  
  
Her clothing changed as they passed through the final buildings. The strange clothes morphing into those of the temple maidens of his mother.  
  
His chest ached at the sight of them.  
  
She was his by right and his by his mother’s choice. As the child of a goddess, it was within expectations- no, it was his mother’s duty to approve and bless those of importance to him. She had done so with Enkidu.  
  
And now she had done so with what would be his woman.  
  
The woman moved away from him though, beckoning him to the Euphrates with that sweet brown hair flowing around her face like the greatest of dark rivers. Her sweet face revealed the slightest of dimples as she smiled at him.  
  
His.  
  
Unmistakeably his.  
  
It was all he could do not to try to tackle her, to chain her to his side and woo her in his own manner. Enkidu would have beaten him for it though. These things required patience and a gentle hand. She required to be chased and swayed to his side.  
  
He was the wise king of Uruk. He could persuade anyone and anything to his side. He could woo the great and useless Ishtar to fancy him- this woman of sensuality would be no different.  
  
“You have lured me away from my people,” he purred, holding out his hand to the goddess blessed woman. “Come, return to my chambers with me.”  
  
“Gilgamesh.”  
  
Her voice breathed her name as a stargazer would breathe the name of the gods. She worshipped him with his name, the sound echoing in his mind over and over.  
  
“Come to me,” he tried again, pushing more of his desire into demanding. “Allow me to show you what awaits you, child of Ninsun.”  
  
They were approaching the bridge that went over the great Euphrates. He could see the lights of his people’s world behind him. The woman was getting too close to the side of the bridge for his taste. No, she was heading directly for the water.  
  
Panic seized him, dread overwhelming him as he quickened his pace.  
  
Still, she picked up her pace, meeting him step for step.  
  
As he would have wanted, the damn minx.  
  
“Little one,” he breathed, seeing the rapid waters of the Euphrates quickening, as though ready to embrace what was his. “Come here to me. Let me take you back to Uruk. Do you not sense your importance to this land?”  
  
“I have no importance here,” she had told him, reaching the water’s edge. “I’m just waiting for you. I won’t survive without you.”  
  
Won’t…  
  
His breath caught as she moved again, falling backwards. He went without thinking, diving in after her small body until they hit the waters.  
  
And then he was diving. Again and again, scanning the dark waters for any sign of his little woman in white. She had been so close. He had almost felt her soft little hand in his own. He had almost caught her, bringing her back to his home and warmth.  
“Please,” he had murmured, blood running cold as he saw nothing amongst the churning waters. The waters were unforgiving tonight. They stole from him. They stole from his spirit.  
  
He didn’t stop until he saw a head of green swimming in his direction. A pair of hands had wrapped around his own, pulling him to a stop as those pale eyes had met his own.  
  
“Gilgamesh, what are you doing?”  
  
“A woman,” he breathed. “There had been a woman here. She said I had needed to save her.”  
  
“A woman?” The being looked around, holding them both above the waters as they searched the dark waters. “I see nothing.”  
  
“I think she might have gone under. We should see if anyone in the city knows who she is. She had been dressed in my mother’s temple maiden’s clothes.”  
  
They had moved to the side of the river, Enkidu’s strong grip yanking him easily from the Euphrates’ mighty grasp. The being didn’t push them to return to the city though, simply settling him down amongst the riverbank.  
  
“What did she look like, king?”  
  
“Brown hair to her shoulders, brown eyes unlike any I had seen before. She was small, maybe around the height of the goddesses of Uruk. Very pale…” He stopped, noting the other’s pause. “…You’ve seen her?”  
  
Enkidu shook their head. “I don’t. Your mother made it a point for me to meet all of her maidens, my brother. I have seen no woman like you are describing. The women of your mother’s temple all are either quite tall or quite tanned from the Uruk sun.”  
  
“She had hair in front of her face that stopped just short of her eyes.” He motioned with his hand, indicating the bangs that had hung like a curtain over her eyes. “Her chest had been bigger than the women I am normally interested in.”  
  
“She was not one of your mother’s maidens,” Enkidu reiterated. “I have seen them all, Gilgamesh. I have laid with all of them as well. I would know of someone as you’re describing.”  
  
He laid back, staring up at the stars instead of his friend.  
  
There had been no doubt of what he had seen. The woman had called out to him, beckoning him here for some reason. A great part of him had been unable to pull away from her appeal, his damn blood demanding that he take her and claim her. The plain little thing had been his to hold, his to possess and covet.  
  
“Did she interest you that greatly?” Enkidu moved a little closer, ducking his head to read his expression. “Normally, you do not chase the women from the palace.”  
  
“I needed her, my brother,” Gilgamesh told the being simply.  
  
“Ah,” Enkidu nodded, leaning back as well to look up at the night sky. They reached out with one hand, tracing from one twinkling light to another. “So it is as she had told me.”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“The woman that you sent to humanize me,” Enkidu murmured, “she told me that at some point, there is someone who claims the heart of every man. She said that something inside of them stirs at the sight of them, demanding to have the other stolen away and coveted. She had hoped-“ the being shook his head, “she had dreamed of something such as me, but I think she knew I am not meant for anyone. I am yours alone. Meant for brotherhood rather than heartache.”  
  
Reasonable. He could not help but to nod at the being’s words. “You don’t think she is a goddess, do you Enkidu?”  
  
The last thing they needed was to be dealing with another goddess, especially one that stirred such emotion from him.  
  
“You said she was their typical height,” Enkidu warned.  
  
“She was so plain for a goddess,” he murmured.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“Plain. All of the goddesses I have met have been adorned in jewelry, appearing with their hair done up in one way or another. They always try to appear at their best. This woman, from what I managed to take in of her appearance, didn’t have any of those characteristics. She just came to me as she would a lover.”  
  
“How odd,” Enkidu had replied, smiling to itself. “Then again, you befriend the strangest things. Myself for example. You realize you speak to clay and spit, yes?”  
  
“You are human,” Gilgamesh told the being. “You are my brother. The only one whom I would ever consider my friend and brother. Nothing and no one can take that away from you.” He moved to stand up, offering a hand to the being. “What’s more, I declare that you are human. I am the king, am I not? What I say is law.”  
  
For a moment, the being blinked, staring at the hand that was extended before smiling. “I suppose that is true. No other being would be able to handle being your brother. You are far too wild. A wolf amongst man, if I should draw parallel.”  
  
He laughed at the being, wrapping an arm around the other’s shoulders. “A wolf! As though some mongrel like that could be compared to myself. Try a lion, my brother.”  
  
“You flatter yourself. Although when you spike up your hair, you do remind me of the cubs, I suppose.” The green haired being smiled wider, nudging him. “I would like to meet this woman of yours when you find her.”  
  
“You will be the first I introduce her to. As my brother, she must pay you the same reverence that I do. She needs to understand that you are the other most important thing in my life.”  
  
“Such flattery,” Enkidu cooed, looking towards the city. “Remember that all things end, my king. Even I will have a time when I must go.”  
  
“Later,” he told the being. “You may go after me to the underworld. I want my children that I bear with this woman to behold your friendship. They will need to learn their strength from you.”  
  
“Like father, like son, I suppose.”  
  
Gilgamesh thought back to that night beneath the stars, remembering the days that had followed. The weeks that had followed from there. The emotions had been too strong for too long. He had dreaded the nights from there. Spurned the stars and their solace. They had been too weak, too distant.  
  
He had not been able to save the woman from the waters.  
  
He had not been able to save his brother and friend from the heavens.  
  
Upon his death, he had spurned the women he had welcomed to his bed, turning away in his final moments to remember those defiant eyes and the flawless expression of his friend’s face. He had echoed the name of his friend into the universe, releasing his soul to find the other in the underworld.  
  
But something had claimed him before he could ever see the being.  
  
For so long, he had found himself amongst strangers in foreign lands. Not living nor dead, he had raised his weapons again and again. Until his soul had hardened and his mind had warped. Until all he could think of was how the next battle would sooth the memories that plagued him.  
  
Again and again he could only see the eyes of the Bull of Heaven.  
  
Again and again he could see the eyes of the woman who had been chosen as his.  
  
His body longed for what was his. His mind, ever wizened from years of ruling, knew better than to dream upon a simple drinking cup for such things.  
  
Nothing from the gods on down would bring back his brother or his woman.  
  
Until she had appeared to him.  
  
Her voice had echoed to him in his nothingness, luring him in once again. He had found himself engrossed in the subtle tone, the lilt that it carried, differing from the Sumerian language he had been so accustomed to.  
  
Thinking back, she had been odd with her Sumerian, as though new to speaking such things.  
  
And then she had appeared to him, adorned in a brown uniform and staring up at him in surprise.  
  
Surprise, as though she hadn’t known that she would summon that which was hers so easily.  
  
And indeed, she had needed to be saved. Trapped within a labyrinth of a place, with only he himself as someone of any merit. The other servants and students were useless, providing barely anything in terms of power.  
  
He had moved himself into her chambers within an evening, claiming it for himself so that he could remain close.  
  
Then he had touched her.  
  
Her body was as small and plain as he had remembered from that night. Her breasts were as large as he had remembered, a little more so than what he was accustomed and truly interested in. Yet on her, he found he was fond of them. His hands could grip them well, as though he could hold her heart and soul in each hand without truly needing to woo her.  
  
How many nights he found himself lying awake, looming over her as he had recalled watching her fall into the Euphrates. At times, he needed to simply hold her in his arms, watching her body curl into his own. Her little figure fit against his own, embracing him as she pushed him away during the day.  
  
And when she had been starting to be deleted…  
  
He had moved without thinking, pouring the Gates of Babylon into the dreaded machine to keep what was his. His arms had wrapped around her body, eyes closing as he had called out to the one being he had not called for in so long.  
  
His mother had saved her, as he had known she would.  
  
The woman’s body returned to being in one piece, the ties to the Moon Cell collapsing until she was simply the human that she was meant to be. His lips had pressed to her temple, his eyes drifting towards the skies.  
  
He would need to apologize to his friend.  
  
He had promised to show his woman to them first.  
  
Instead, he had shown her to his mother. He had shown her to the woman in order to save her.  
  
Gilgamesh paused in his story telling, pouring a bit more wine as the two men stared at him. Both unable to respond as the king simply savored the sweet port he had called forth from the Gates of Babylon.  
  
“And then,” Arthur asked, “what happened then?”  
  
Gilgamesh shrugged, “She awakened alongside me, soon enough drifting into the universe until I was stolen away by the grail. I had freed her, but sacrificed myself. Gudako summoned me and Hakuno crashed my ship into Chaldea.”  
  
He should have taught her how to drive.  
  
“And then she summoned Enkidu, Moses, and Nefertari.” Ozymandias smiled brightly, nodding. “I am impressed with your story, king of heroes. It is nothing less than what I would expect from you.”  
  
“It’s… actually a good story,” Arthur nodded in agreement. “I hadn’t expected you to have so much to your story. I had figured you’d just been summoned and grew fond of her after a while. She’s quite popular with Nero and the others.”  
  
“She has a charm to her, I suppose,” Gilgamesh relented, mood dying with the reminder of the other servants that Hakuno had possessed. “She has been mine for far longer than the other servants though. They may deem themselves servants, but I am her spirit. She understands this, of course.”  
  
“Ozymandias,” Arthur looked over at the other king, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I can choose between your stories. I hadn’t expected what stories I was told.”  
  
“It is without saying,” Ramses replied, holding up a hand to calm the other’s distress. “It is impossible to decide when Gilgamesh and I share similar stories of love and heartache. Truly, there is no greater curse and blessing than women and brothers.”  
  
Gilgamesh glanced over at the man, raising a brow even as he said nothing.  
  
Curse?  
  
Nothing had been a curse for him. He had simply experienced a longer adventure. He had simply had a heroic story that had extended itself over the millennia, taking him to where he had been meant to go.  
  
The room filled with silence as they all sat there, indulging in their drinks and bath. The sound of the bubblers beneath the waters kept some kind of noise going on. Just enough to break what awkwardness would have been there.  
  
Arthur looked between the two, shaking his head. “You both went through interesting times to meet your women.”  
  
“As is typical,” Gilgamesh replied easily. “Hakuno was worth the wait, although she still dresses so plainly. I cannot help but to feel her bold statements and touch make up for her poor taste and lack of understanding of pleasure.”  
  
“Nefertari is a gentle spirit,” Ozymandias replied, “despite her shyness and eagerness to hide behind my brother lately, I find her kindness to be unparalleled. She fills my life with a great joy I had not experienced in years.”  
  
Smitten.  
  
They were both smitten, Arthur realized, watching them both.  
  
Dear Guinevere, but the two were weird.  
  
“You did not tell us who has the better story, Arthur.” Gilgamesh glanced over at him, frowning.  
  
“Yes, king of knights. Let’s hear the victor.”  
  
“You both have the same damn story.” Arthur shook his head. “Both of you had a brother and saw a woman you liked and then your brother helped you get them, basically by encouraging you. I can’t pick between two stories that are the same thing.”  
  
The two glared at him, the mood dropping quickly.  
  
Shit.  
  
“I… I think I hear Merlin calling,” Arthur stood up quickly, climbing from the bath. “I should go see what he wants. You know how Merlin gets when he gets anxious.” He laughed lightly, turning away and hurrying for the door.  
  
He needed better friends.


End file.
